


Everything Old is New Again

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Reconciliation Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:32:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8382706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Set during the revival - Scully and Mulder celebrate his birthday





	

She knew him ten years before she found out that lasagna was his favorite meal. She honestly couldn’t even recall ever seeing him eat lasagna, and she said as much, and he nodded in agreement. It was because, specifically, he liked his grandmother’s lasagna and no other. So, it was his favorite, but he hadn’t had it since he was about 13.

 

They had just moved in to the unremarkable house in the middle of nowhere when she found out about the lasagna. She’d barely just found out they owned a house, but Mulder had apparently been planning for all sorts of contingencies for a long time. The house was one of them. It wasn’t in either of their names, but it was theirs all the same, and it was somewhere to go when they had nowhere else.

 

She’d learned about the lasagna by chance. The house was furnished in a mishmash of his parents’ belongings that he’d relocated from their estates. Most of it he hadn’t bothered to go through very carefully. It’s how she found the box of recipes and how she learned about the lasagna.

 

The first attempt she made at following his grandmother’s recipe, it was his birthday and they’d been in the house for three months. Cooking wasn’t really her forte, but she could certainly follow a recipe. It turned out decently, but she knew it could never be anyone’s favorite. She asked for honest criticism and he told her there was too much cheese and plus, if she really wanted to make his grandmother’s lasagna, she’d also have to find her recipe for the sauce.

 

Once a year she tried, on the occasion of his birthday, to make the lasagna. She got better at it. It took about five years, but Mulder told her it was his new favorite. It made her feel very accomplished. That was when things were good. She hadn’t made the lasagna for his last two birthdays. Last year, she wasn’t even at the house anymore.

 

Scully watched Mulder work on his computer from across the room. She had a desk in the basement now, something she was getting used to. It was a small desk, but a desk all the same. Mulder had also been bugging the maintenance department to put her nameplate on the door, but they hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

 

“Mulder, what are you doing tonight?” she asked.

 

“Well, it’s Thursday, Scully,” he answered, banging his wireless mouse on his desk a few times and frowning. “Gotta catch the line-up on Must-See-TV.”

 

“Mulder, Must-See-TV hasn’t existed since our first era in this basement.”

 

“Yeah? Tell that to Nick at Nite.” He lifted the mouse and shook it by his ear. “Aren’t these things supposed to be technological advancements? By the way, my slideshows back in the day were far superior to these Powerpoint extravaganzas.”

 

“Careful. You sound old and cranky.”

 

“I am old. And I’ve always been cranky.”

 

“And getting older. It’s your birthday.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I was thinking…”

 

“You’re always thinking, Scully. That’s what I love about you.”

 

She licked her lips and looked away from him for a moment. “What if I came out to the house after work tonight? We could have dinner.”

 

“Sure.” He gave a shrug and rattled the mouse again. “Want me to pick up a pizza?”

 

“No. I’ll bring something.” She stood and smoothed her skirt over her hips, taking note that his chin had dipped every so slightly and he was trying not to make it obvious he was looking at her over the top of his glasses. She met his gaze and his eyes flickered back to his computer screen.

 

“I’m gonna get out of here and I’ll see you later,” she said.

 

“Okay.”

 

Scully walked out of the basement with a plan. She would go to her place and change into something more comfortable. She would put the dog in the car and stop at the grocery store on the way to pick up what she needed for the lasagna. She wished she had a copy of the recipe with her, but she thought she could remember the ingredients, just not the measurements. If all went according to plan, she could be at the house in under two hours and eating dinner by seven.

 

It did go mostly according to plan. At the store, she hesitated in front of a rack of wine selections, not wondering which one to choose, but if she should at all. She chided herself for acting so undecided when there was an overnight bag in her car and she’d just shaved her legs less than an hour ago. Who did she think she was kidding?

 

Of course, it wasn’t entirely up to her. Mulder might be perfectly fine on his own and maybe he hadn’t really forgiven her for leaving. She wasn’t sure because, as was their habit, they didn’t talk about it. But, then again, she’d caught him watching her, not just today, but ever since they started working together again, and she knew that look in his eye. It may have been a long time since she’d seen it, but she knew it.

 

When she pulled up to the front of the house, Scully sat for a few moments with the engine off, just looking at it. She always referred to it as _the_ house. It was a home they shared, but she never got used to calling _their_ house, for some reason. Once she left, she couldn’t think of it has _his_ house either. It was just _the_ house, existing almost separately from them. Perhaps it was because she never really had a choice in the matter. One day they were outlaws, leaving everything and everyone behind, and they next they were homeowners. She thought it would be a relief to stop running, but until they both had their identities back, sitting still was worse.

 

Daggoo barked, startling her out of her reverie. He was perched on the edge of the passenger seat, standing with his front paws on the glove compartment, tail wagging. He barked again and she realized Mulder was on the porch, rubbing his arms over his light sweater. She grabbed the dog and got out of the car.

 

“You brought the mutt,” Mulder said.

 

“I did,” she answered. “Is that all right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I have groceries.” She took a step up to the porch and he took a step down. They met in the middle. “Take him?”

 

“I’ll get the groceries, you go inside.”

 

She smiled at him and he scratched the dog behind the ears before he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and hopped down to the bottom of the steps. She went into the house and put Daggoo on the floor. He shook himself off and sniffed the couch. The wood burning stove was open and there was a basket of wood in front of it. The screen door banged shut behind her and she turned just as Mulder kicked the door closed.

 

“I was just about to light a fire,” he called, heading to the kitchen with the two plastic bags from her back seat. “Supposed to get frost tonight.”

 

She followed Mulder into the kitchen, remembering the brisk fall and winter nights they spent cuddled up by the fire or under the down comforter on their bed. She wondered what he did now on cold nights.

 

“What’d you get?” Mulder asked, opening up one of the bags and peering inside.

 

“I thought I’d make lasagna.”

 

He looked up from the bag and the corners of his mouth twitched up, but he pursed his lips to suppress his smile. “Can I help?” he asked.

 

 

She gave him the slightest of smiles in return and put her hand on his arm for a moment. “Go light that fire,” she said. “You can come back and cut up the onion if you want.”

 

“I want.” He put his hand on her hip and touched the small of her back briefly as he crossed behind her to go back to the front room.

 

Scully breathed deeply, settling the butterflies that fluttered low in her abdomen when he touched her. She was surprised she could still feel that way after all this time. But, then again, it had been a long time since he’d touched her like that. It reminded her of earlier days when they still fumbled with intimacy, when they both craved touching, and being touched, but were slow to move past tentative. She put it out of her head, for now, to focus on the lasagna.

 

When Mulder returned, she had everything laid out and had just started the water to boil. She gave him the cutting board, a knife, and an onion. He got to cutting and she worked at the stove.

 

“How much am I doing?” he asked.

 

“I think about half will be fine,” she answered, looking over her shoulder to where he was chopping. “I’m kind of…winging it this time.”

 

“Yeah? That’s exciting.”

 

“Well, that’ll all depend on how it turns out.”

 

“I know I’ll love it because you made it. So, take the pressure off yourself.”

 

Scully felt a blush rise up into her cheeks. It seemed she’d spent a lifetime being mostly immune to Mulder’s flirting, but occasionally she could be affected by the strangest and silliest of things.

 

They had a near collision at the table when she turned for the cheese grater and he turned with a handful of onion. After that, she was able to keep Mulder mostly out of her way by having him reach the dishes on the highest shelves and by having him stir the sauce. Daggoo wandered into the kitchen when it started to smell like food, and Mulder took him out so they would both be out of her way.

 

It had been quiet for awhile by the time Scully put the lasagna in the oven to bake. She washed and dried her hands and then went out to the living area. Mulder sat on the couch, one arm stretched along the back and his head tipped, mouth open slightly as he slept. Daggoo was curled up on his lap with Mulder’s hand on his head as though Mulder had fallen asleep while petting him.

 

Scully watched them sleep. The fire crackled softly. The room was warm and cozy. It felt like a scene from a normal life. It squeezed her heart and brought tears to her eyes. With a few quiet steps, she was in front of the couch and easing herself down in the space beside Mulder and under his arm.

 

Mulder jerked softly and his arm came down heavily on Scully’s shoulders. She tipped her head up to look at him and he stirred enough to squeeze her shoulder and yawn.

 

“Lasagna ready?” he asked, the drowsy, gravelly tone of his voice making her ears tingle.

 

“Just put it in the oven,” she answered. “We’ve got about 45 minutes.”

 

“Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep.”

 

“It’s ok.” She reached up and rubbed the dimple in his chin with her thumb before resting her hand on his cheek. “I didn’t really mean to disturb your nap.”

 

“What did you mean to do?”

 

“Join you? Maybe. I’m not sure.” She felt him smile against her hand.

 

“You can nap with me anytime you want, Scully,” he whispered.

 

Emboldened, Scully got up and scooped Daggoo up out of Mulder’s lap. The dog whimpered lightly as she put him down on the rug by the fire, but he curled up again and sighed. Three steps later, she was back at the couch, sliding into the free space of Mulder’s lap with her knees pressed to his hips.

 

Tucking her hair over her ears, Scully leaned in and touched her lips to Mulder’s. It was a hesitant kiss of years past as though their mouths had never been on every square inch of each other’s bodies.

 

“I think I like your version of napping better than mine,” he said, and took her face in his hands, pulling her into another kiss.

 

She kept her eyes open like she used to, back in the days when she still couldn’t believe what happened between them was real, even while it was happening. Mulder tilted out of their kiss and brushed his thumbs over her brows.

 

“Close your eyes, Scully,” he said.

 

She lowered her lashes as he moved his mouth back over hers, remembering the first time he teased her lips apart and his tongue touched hers. She turned her head and laughed at herself, much like she had the first time, and put her hand on his chest to soothe his ego. She trembled all over.

 

“I know,” he said, nuzzling her neck as he rubbed her arms. “It’s not me, it’s you.”

 

“We’re too old to be so ridiculous,” she murmured, sliding her fingers into his hair.

 

“Speak for yourself, I’m not the one laughing.”

 

She pulled at his sweater from his waist up and he let go of her so she could bring it over his head and off his arms. She was still in awe of the softness of his skin, always smooth and warm to the touch. She was still in awe of his strength, quiet and unassuming under his business suits, hiding such incredible power.

 

“Stop staring, Scully, you’re making me nervous.”

 

She pulled her own sweater off in response. Her trembling increased beyond her control. Mulder’s hands climbed her back, warming her skin with his touch. She breathed in deeply and he moved one hand to her chest. Her heart slammed against the heel of his hand. From thumb to pinkie, the splay of his fingers spanned from shoulder to shoulder. It was a marvel to her how they could fit so perfectly together when it sometimes felt like his hands could swallow her whole.

 

He hadn’t moved, but just thinking about it brought back the phantom sensation of his hands on her. Hands circling her waist, cupping her ass, parting her thighs, pressing against the back of her knees, squeezing her breasts, kneading her hips. She lost her breath and rocked forward, flushing with the ache of arousal.

 

Her body needed his. She backed off his lap and stood on shaky legs to undo her pants. He watched her, his hands coming down on his thighs and making no move to do the same. He scooted closer to the edge of the couch as she pushed her jeans and underwear to her feet and took her hand to bring her between his knees as she stepped out of the crumpled clothes.

 

He brought his arms around her, pressing his cheek to her chest and pulling her hips in tight against his abdomen. She gripped his hair, in need of something to hold on to. His end of day stubble scraped the swell of her breast as he moved his face against her, causing liquid shivers to slide down her spine.

 

She moved her hands between then and pressed one knee down over his thigh and then the other, still raised above him until she could open the front of his pants. Mulder sat back and lifted his hips, finally doing something to help. She didn’t wait, sinking down and bringing him her body as soon as she had him free. His hands held the backs of her thighs, his mouth opened on her neck. They sat still and breathed.

 

“We do fit together,” she murmured.

 

“Did you forget?”

 

“No, I didn’t.”

 

They moved with muscle memory of each other. She didn’t have to stop and think about the right angle to arch her back or where to put her hands on his chest, she already knew. She didn’t have to ask him to hold her above the swell of her hips, he already knew. He knew where to touch her and how.

 

It ended for her with a shiver. Her eyes rolled back and her mouth fell open. Mulder still moved within her and she dropped her head forward and held his face. She toyed with his earlobes and leaned into him so her mouth hovered over his.

 

“Mulder,” she whispered.

 

“Scully,” he groaned, his body going rigid under hers and then limp.

 

He gazed at her with drowsy eyes and she rubbed the shell of his ears with her thumbs. She smiled at him and he stretched his neck to kiss her, crossing his arms over her back to hold her close. They kissed until the sweat dried and then, with great reluctance, she finally pulled away and backed off his lap.

 

“I’m going to clean up,” she said.

 

“I saw your overnight bag in the car when I got the groceries. I put it by the door in case you needed it.”

 

She leaned over him and gave him a quick kiss. Though she was still in her bra, she was never very comfortable with nudity and quickly gathered her clothes from the floor to cover herself. On the way to the bedroom, she picked up her bag.

 

For awhile, she stood in the bathroom in front of the mirror, running her fingers over the reddened patches of skin on her chest where his stubble had scraped her sensitive skin. It would fade shortly, it always did.

 

Instead of re-dressing in the clothes she wore or the pajamas she brought, she pulled one of Mulder’s flannel shirts from the closet and rolled up the sleeves. It came to her mid-thigh, but it would be warm enough, especially when she paired it with a pair of his wool socks that she pulled up to her knees.

 

She bypassed the living room when she came out of the room to check on the lasagna. Mulder was stretched out on the couch when she went back to him.

 

“Still have about twenty minutes,” she said.

 

“Want to take a real nap with me?” he asked, opening up his arm.

 

She slid into the space beside him and tucked herself up against his side. Her leg moved between his and his arm cradled her neck. They both chuckled when Daggoo let out a sighing snore from across the room and she traced the muscles in his shaking abdomen with the tips of her fingernails.

 

“Are you staying the night?” Mulder asked.

 

“I thought I might,” she answered and tipped her face up to look at him. “If it’s okay with you.”

 

“I think you know the answer to that.”

 

She stilled her hand and closed her eyes as he bent his head and kissed her softly and sweetly. “Mulder?” she mumbled against his mouth.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What if the lasagna doesn’t come out?”

 

He laughed. “Then, I’ll go out and get a pizza.”

 

Her eyes fluttered open and she kissed his neck. “Happy birthday,” she said.

 

The End


End file.
